


Stranger Danger

by little notions (notionally)



Category: GOT7
Genre: (roleplayed dubious consent), Dubious Consent, Established Relationship, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pretending to Be Strangers, Roleplay, Smut, just some filthy shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 09:19:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19082092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notionally/pseuds/little%20notions
Summary: You're at a bar, minding your own business, when an extremely attractive man comes up to you. You claim you don't want anything to do with him, but he won't take no for an answer.Established relationship, stranger/dubcon roleplay scenario.





	Stranger Danger

**Author's Note:**

> warning for roleplayed dubcon (i.e. it's not actually dubcon it's a couple pretending that it's dubcon)
> 
> happy birthday to the only your name who matters, ______!! I love you even though you hate me

 

 

You stand by the bar, waiting for your drink, fingers drumming softly against the cold marble. It’s not crowded, by any means — hotel bars rarely are — but there’s only one bartender on duty, and he keeps getting sidetracked from making your drink by a group of middle-aged men who are demanding to be served immediately. You roll your eyes. How entitled can people get?

“Fucking baby boomers, eh?”

A low voice from behind you startles you, makes you turn around. There’s a man standing there, one hand propped up on the bar next to you. His dark hair falls into his eyes, obscuring his gaze just enough to make you wonder what he’s thinking.

“Yeah,” you say, trying to be polite, even though this stranger is standing way too close to you. It feels all too warm, all of a sudden, and you take a tiny step back. You bump into the barstool behind you,  and with nowhere else to go, you sit down. 

“Can I get you a drink?” the stranger asks. His voice is smooth like honey, but with the slightest hint of grit in it to make your insides twist. It’s the kind of voice that make you want to hear moaning your name.

But now’s not the time. You cross your legs demurely — or, at least, attempt to. Your dress is tight, and short, and it rides up, exposing a little more thigh than you’d have liked. “I’ve already ordered a drink,” you say primly, turning away from the stranger. “I’ve been waiting for ages,” you mumble to yourself.  The bartender is at the far end of the bar. You wonder if he’s forgotten about your drink.

“That’s a shame,” the stranger says, not to be deterred by your visible lack of interest. “But I guess good things are worth the — wait.”

You gasp. There are fingers trailing along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, from your knee, all the way up to the hem of your dress, then back down again. You’re frozen in place, unable to turn to look at the stranger, unable to make him stop. His fingers are warm, and slightly calloused, and his touch sends goosebumps fluttering across your skin.

“Excuse me—” you finally manage to stutter out, fingers clenching the edge of the bar as you turn to give the stranger a piece of your mind. But his fingers are gone from your skin, so quickly that you start to wonder if you’d imagined it all. Your breath hitches in your throat, and you clench your legs together. It creates a friction that makes your gut clench. 

The strange man is smirking at you, his dark eyes flashing with smug satisfaction. “Will you have a drink with me?” he asks.

You know you should decline. But you can still feel the ghostly after-image of his fingers on your thigh and it makes you wonder what it would feel like to have those fingers slipping further up along your soft skin, past the hem of your dress, past the lace beneath — but no. You exhale shakily. “I don’t even know your name,” you point out. Your voice is trembling in a way you wish it wasn’t. It makes you feel exposed.

The stranger reaches out, trails his fingers down from your shoulder to your elbow. He has a way of touching you that makes your every nerve scream out for more. 

“Jaebum,” the stranger says, and you’re so distracted by his touch that for a split second you forget that you’d asked for his name.

“Well, Jaebum,” you say, tightly. The bartender returns — finally — with your drink, and you accept it with a soft murmur of thanks. Jaebum’s watching you with undisguised interest, as you hop off the barstool and tug your dress down (it doesn’t do very much). “I’m going to have to decline your offer of a drink. But have a good evening.”

You incline your head at him in goodbye. He just continues smirking at you. It’s unnerving, and it makes it hard for you to breathe. So you turn away, walk towards the glass doors leading out onto the terrace. You realise he’s probably looking at your ass, and heat floods your cheeks. Maybe you sway your hips a little more as you walk. Maybe not.

The night view over the city is beautiful, twinkling lights scattered across the darkness like fireflies. You stand at the railing, your drink on a table next to you, taking in the view. The summer air is warm, but the night brings a gentle, cooling breeze. You close your eyes, let the wind caress your skin.

“Beautiful view, isn’t it?”

You don’t have to turn around to know who it is. But the fact that he’d followed you out here — that he was  _ interested enough _ to keep on pursuing you even though you’d turned him down — it sends a thrill of excitement through you.

“You really don’t know how to take no for an answer, do you?” you ask, still not bothering to turn around. 

“I told you,” he replies, “good things are worth the wait.” Then he steps closer to you, so close you can almost feel the fabric of his shirt ghosting against the bare skin of your shoulder. 

You lick your lips, mouth suddenly gone desert dry. “Jaebum—” you start, but your voice breaks off when you feel a hand sliding onto your waist. The material of your dress isn’t very thick, and you can feel the warmth of his hand radiating against your skin.

“Yes?” Jaebum purrs, leaning forward so his lips are right up against your ear. His other hand comes to rest on the other side of your waist, so he’s basically holding you in place against the glass railing. He’s not holding you very tightly, so you could probably squirm away if you wanted to — but something keeps you there, frozen in place.

“My — my friend will be here soon,” you stammer out. 

“Lies,” Jaebum says, without missing a beat. He’s right. There is no friend on their way to save you. You’d come up to the bar for a drink on your own, and now here you are, letting a complete stranger run his hands all over you.

“I don’t—” you start, but once again you don’t get to finish your sentence, because Jaebum’s digging his fingers into your hips, and jerking you backwards against him. You let out a broken gasp as you feel his erection, long and hard, pressing up through his jeans and against your ass. “Oh, god,” you exhale breathily, gripping so tightly onto the railing your knuckles are going white.

Jaebum scoffs lightly, you can hear him — can feel the soft puff of air against your neck. “I just realised,” he whispers into your ears, “I don’t know your name.”

“My name?” you repeat, mostly because you can’t find any words. Not when the hands on your waist have started roaming, one of them sliding flat onto your stomach, pressing you close. The other one slipping downwards, gently skimming along the front of your crotch, dipping past your hem, and onto the bare skin of your upper thigh.

“Yes, baby,” Jaebum purrs. “Tell me your name.” He sinks his teeth into your earlobe, and the sudden jolt of pain makes you cry out softly.

“______,” you stammer. “It’s ______.”

“Pretty name,” Jaebum says. “For a pretty girl.” Then the hand on your thigh slides upwards, up underneath your dress, up towards where you know you’re already dripping wet with desire.

When Jaebum’s fingers slide against your lace-covered crotch, a soft whine slips out past your lips. His grip on you tightens, as the fingers underneath your dress continue to explore. “So wet,” he murmurs. “I think you want this, don’t you, ______?”

Jaebum tugs your thong aside, and easily slides one finger inside you. Despite yourself, you let out a moan of pleasure, almost doubling over from the sudden intrusion and how exhilaratingly arousing it feels. 

“Jaebum,” you manage to gasp out, as he works his finger in and out of you slowly. His thumb finds your clit, rubs a teasingly lazy circle against it. “Jaebum — people will see—”

“There’s no one here to see,” he replies, cutting you off. He’s right, of course. The hotel bar is nearly empty, and besides, you’d chosen a secluded corner of the terrace. Thinking you’d be able to enjoy the night view, undisturbed. Instead, you’re enjoying something else entirely. 

“It’s too bad, though,” Jaebum continues. He slides a second finger inside you, and you moan brokenly. “I have a feeling you’d have liked it if people were watching.”

The only reply you can manage is a pitchy mewl as Jaebum crooks his fingers inside you. It feels so enticing, and it just makes you want more. You let out a choked moan, clenching around him, rocking your hips slightly, desperately trying to increase the friction building between your legs.

“Oh, no,” Jaebum scolds playfully. The movement of his fingers stop abruptly, then he slides them out of you. You feel suddenly hollowed out. “Very naughty,” he says. “Naughty girls don’t get rewarded.”

Embarrassment creeps up your neck like flame. “Jaebum, you fuck—” you start, only to get cut off again. But this time, it’s by Jaebum’s fingers — the fingers that had just been in you — coming up to your mouth. Slipping past your lips, the taste of yourself mixed with the taste of Jaebum’s skin pressed into your tongue.

“Do you taste good, baby?” Jaebum asks from behind you, leaning forward to whisper against your neck. He licks a slow stripe up along the curve of your ear, and it sends a shudder through your core. “I bet you do. I can’t wait to taste you.”

The implication that he’s going to taste you makes the fire burning in your gut flare up with hunger. You close your lips around his fingers, sucking firmly and swirling your tongue around them. The shattered moans that you’re making — from nothing except sucking a stranger’s fingers — are so humiliating that you can feel your entire body flushing red.

“You’re such a good girl, ______,” Jaebum praises, and it makes you glow with pride. “Good girls deserve to be treated well, don’t you think?”

You nod eagerly around his fingers. He slips out of your mouth, trailing his fingers down along your jaw, along your neck, down into your cleavage. You swallow tightly, anticipation building in your core like a spring as his hand slides into your dress via the sharp dip of your neckline, slides right into your bra, so he’s cupping one of your breasts. His fingers, still slightly wet with your spit, are a little cold. They find your nipple, and pinch it — gently, at first. Then more insistently, tugging away from you.

Your knees feel like they’re crumpling, and you stumble backwards into Jaebum, moaning breathily as you do. But he holds you steady with that one hand flat on your stomach, which comes round now to grip onto your hip as he presses you against the railing. He leans forward, lips latching onto the sensitive bit of skin at the curve of your neck. His teeth dig into you as he sucks and bites and lavishes your skin with kisses. That, combined with the rough, almost brutal, twisting and flicking of your nipple, makes you feel completely light-headed with arousal. 

“Jaebum,” you choke out. “Jaebum, please.”

“Jaebum, please  _ what?”  _ he asks. He rocks his hips into you, and you can feel his dick through his trousers and your dress, rubbing against your ass. You’re completely helpless, pinned against the railing, and he’s humping against you like you’re a toy. The thought makes you throb with need.

When you don’t respond to his question, his hand slips out from where it’s cupping your breast, slides down to reach under your dress again. His fingers rub jerkily against your clit, making you cry out from how sensitive it feels.

“I said,” he grunts forcefully, “Jaebum, please  _ what?” _

You let out a broken cry as he slides two fingers into you, with barely any resistance, you’re so fucking wet. Then he adds a third finger, twisting roughly inside you, while he thumbs at your clit. It’s all so much, pleasure mounting and keening at the edge of pain, and all you can think of is how burning hot your skin feels, how tightly your muscles are clenched, how your breath is coming is short, shaky bursts, how close you are—

And then it stops. Jaebum yanks his hands away from you. The plaintive whine that escapes you is so desperate, so needy, that you would in any other situation be embarrassed. But right now, all you can think of is how you would do anything —  _ anything _ — to have Jaebum back inside you.

“Use your fucking words,” he hisses in your ear, and you cry out from the shame that floods you.

“Jaebum, please,” you stammer out brokenly. “Please take me back to your room and fuck me, please — use me like the slut I am, please, please.” You babble on, the backs of your eyes prickling with unshed tears.

Jaebum wraps his arms around you. His lips come up to nip at your earlobe. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “Okay. Come on, ______.”

  
  


 

* * *

 

  
  


Your heart’s pounding the entire way up in the lift — there’s an elderly couple in there with you, so Jaebum has to behave. Or, at least, he has to give the appearance of behaving. 

“Can’t wait to have my way with you,” he whispers in your ear, breath ghosting down the side of your neck. You feel goosepimples raise where his exhalation caresses you. He’s standing behind you, slightly to the side, and his hand brushes the back of your thigh accidentally. Then it happens again, and then you feel his fingers trail up along your inner thigh, and you realise that it’s no accident.

“Stop it,” you hiss under your breath. The elderly lady smiles at you, nodding warmly at what she must think is a lovely, innocent young couple. How wrong she is. 

“You’d be more convincing if you weren’t spreading your legs for me right now,” Jaebum purrs, soft and smooth, and heat rushes to the surface of your skin as you realise he’s right. 

You reach behind, slap his hand away. “I can still change my mind about this.”

“We both know you’re not going to do that,” comes Jaebum’s reply. You inhale sharply in indignation, turn to give him a piece of your mind, when the lift shudders to a halt, and the doors slide open with a muffled  _ ding. _ Jaebum grins at you, canines showing. “This is my floor — you can follow me, or not.”

Then he brushes past you, steps out of the lift, and walks down the corridor without even looking back.

“You fucker—” you mutter under your breath darkly. Shoot the elderly couple an apologetic glance — they look mildly bewildered by Jaebum stalking out of the lift without you — and storm down the corridor after this strange man that you’re suddenly, embarrassingly, desperate to fuck.

“Thought so,” Jaebum says as you approach, before you can even get a word in. He swivels on the spot suddenly, whipping a keycard out of his pocket. The lock beeps quietly as Jaebum swipes the card against it. He pushes the door open, gestures for you to enter. “After you, my lady,” he says, the perfect vision of gentlemanly chivalry, except you know it’s all a facade. 

He’s no gentleman. And you’re no lady.

“This is a nice room,” you say, glancing idly out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the glittering lights of the city beneath. “You some sort of fancy guy, huh?”

You sense Jaebum coming to stand behind you. Despite yourself, your breath hitches. He leans in close, but doesn’t touch you. But you can almost feel the ghost of his hands on your skin.

“If you want me to be,” Jaebum breathes. Then he puts his hands on you, just two palms flat on your stomach, pressing you into him. You gasp involuntarily, and you hear him chuckle lowly. “I can be anything you want me to be, baby.”

You hesitate. What the hell are you doing? In a strange room with a strange man — is this really what you want to do?

But Jaebum doesn’t like the hesitation. He releases you with a shove that makes you stumble. 

“Hey!” you object, turning round to face him. His eyes are dark, glinting with a hunger that scares you. The words you had been about to shout at him disintegrate in your throat like ash.

“Take your dress off,” Jaebum demands. 

You swallow around the dryness in your throat. “I — I don’t—”

“Take the fucking dress off,” Jaebum repeats, his voice lower this time, grittier. You nod mutely, undoing the zip hidden along the side seam of your dress. The fabric loosens around you. You slide the straps off your shoulders — first one, then the other. The dress falls to the ground, pools at your feet.

Jaebum smiles at you. He removes his jacket, drapes it carefully over the back of an armchair. Then walks over to the bed, sits down at the edge. The entire time, you’re just standing there in your bra and panties. Waiting.

“Very good,” he says, beckoning you towards him. His presence is like a magnet. You find yourself drifting forward, kicking off your heels and stepping out of your dress gingerly. Stopping right in front of him.

He parts his legs, pulls you in close, hands on your hips. Your knees bump into the side of the mattress. The air is cold, but Jaebum’s hands are warm. They feel like fire on your skin.

“So beautiful,” Jaebum murmurs appreciatively. He slides his hands onto your bum, squeezing the flesh a little too tightly for your liking. You wince, squirm away. “Don’t move,” Jaebum snaps suddenly, and before you know what’s going on, he’s bringing his hand down onto your ass with a resounding slap.

“Oh my god,” you exhale sharply, knees buckling slightly in surprise. Your hands rest on Jaebum’s shoulders for balance. The slap stings, but it also sends a desire for more blazing through your body. Heat builds in your crotch, the muscles there twitching, throbbing, desperate to be touched.

Jaebum smirks up at you. His hands move up along your waist, slide onto your breasts. When he gives them a firm squeeze, this time you stay perfectly still. 

“Such a good girl,” Jaebum says, and the praise lights a fire in your core. He reaches behind you, unsnaps the clasp of your bra. Then slowly, excruciatingly slowly, slides the straps off your shoulders. Your nipples are hard. But Jaebum loves to tease, so he doesn’t touch them. Or you. Just pulls his shirt off, revealing firm muscles under smooth, pale skin. You lick your lips, trailing your gaze across his broad chest, down the subtle ridges of his abs, along the trail of hairs that start at his navel and disappear beneath the waistband of his trousers.

Jaebum leans back on his elbows, watching you watch him. He chuckles. “Come here, ______.”

You’re moving before you even realise it, lunging forward as his hands come up to support you by the waist. You’re straddling him, knees on either side of his thighs, leaning down so you can kiss him. There’s the faint taste of alcohol on his lips, and that alone makes you feel more drunk than anything else you’ve had tonight. His hands slide up your sides, cupping your breasts and massaging them insistently.

“Jaebum,” you moan, tipping your head back and grinding your hips down into him. You can feel how hard he is beneath his clothes, and the knowledge that you’re the one who’s turning him on makes you feel heady with power. 

He hums contentedly in reply, mouthing at your neck, teeth grazing against the skin there before biting down. There’s a twinge of pain when he sucks on your neck, hard — but it’s also delicious, and it sends sparks shooting down your spine.

“God — Jaebum — fuck.” Your hands fumble with his belt buckle, desperate to feel him, all of him. But Jaebum’s mouth is on your left nipple, and when he closes his lips around the tender bud you arch your back into him, pleasure skittering into your core. You tangle your fingers in his hair, pressing him into you. He bares his teeth, nipping lightly at your nipple, and the moan you let out is so loud and so lewd you would be embarrassed, but for the fact that you’re far too aroused to be self-conscious.

Then he pulls off your nipple — it makes a wet ‘pop’ — and the sudden loss of sensation makes your gut clench. “Jaebum—” you start to say, all pitchy and whiny, but he tosses you off him so you’re flat on your back on the bed. 

He undoes his belt buckle, finishing off the job you’d started but failed to complete, and shoves his trousers down. Stands there in his black boxer briefs, hard-on clearly visible and straining against the fabric, staring down at you.

“Take that off,” he orders, nodding at your lace thong. You hook your thumbs into the material, shimmy out of it. As the lace peels away from your skin, you realise with a start just how wet you are. Jaebum quirks a half-smile at you, stroking at his dick through his boxers. 

“Jaebum,” you whine, twisting your hips into the bed. You’re sprawled out beneath him, naked and horny, and he’s just standing there touching himself. 

“What is it?” Jaebum asks. You want to slap that stupid, smug smile off his face. “What do you want me to do?”

You scowl at him. “You fucking know what I want, you asshole.”

Jaebum raises one eyebrow. “Do I, now?”

He just wants you to beg for it. Because he’s a fucking prick, and he thinks you’re too desperate for his dick to have any pride — and he’s right, of course, but that doesn’t mean you need to be happy about it.

“Please, Jaebum,” you spit out. One hand coming to squeeze your right tit roughly. “Fuck me, please. I want your dick inside me, I want you to fuck me. Please. I  _ beg  _ you.”

Jaebum grins at you, stripping himself of his boxers and climbing onto bed with you. You shuffle up the bed a little to get more comfortable, and he follows, but first mouthing sloppily at your nipples and dragging his teeth against the sensitive buds, just because he can.

“God, you’re the worst,” you complain, but he just slides his thumb into your mouth, his hand gripping onto the side of your face firmly. You suck on his thumb, hollowing your cheeks out as you look up at him. His dick slides against your slit, presses against your entrance.

“You’re so fucking wet,” Jaebum says. He swipes his fingers along your pussy, rubs them into your clit. Your hips buck as he builds up a rhythm. You groan around his thumb, arching your back and twisting up into his hand. Jaebum pushes down on your tongue, forcing your mouth open, and holds on to your chin like that, forcing you to look at him. Then he slowly, purposefully, pushes his dick into you.

When he bottoms out inside you, you feel your muscles clench around him. Your eyes roll back in your head. You feel so incredibly, blissfully,  _ full. _

Jaebum slides his thumb out of your mouth, moves it down to grab a firm handful of your breast. He props himself up on the elbow of his other arm as he slowly slides out of you, then slams back in. You let out a broken gasp. 

“You feel so good,” Jaebum growls out. “So tight.”

You wish you had something intelligent or quippy to say in response, but Jaebum releases your tit so he can lift your hips into him and with the subtle change in angle his dick is now slamming into a pressure point so deep inside you it feels like he’s in your chest. All your words die in your mouth, and all the word you can make is, “Jaebum, Jaebum,  _ Jaebum.” _

“God, you look incredible,” Jaebum groans. He slides his fingers through your hair, closing his hand into a fist and yanking your head back. “So fucking hot.”

“Yeah?” you gasp out breathlessly. Wrap your legs around his waist, ankles hooked behind him. It shifts the angle between the two of you again, friction building against your clit, and pressure starts to mount in your core. Your muscles are tightening rhythmically, and it heightens the sensation of how thick and hard Jaebum feels inside you.

“Fuck,” Jaebum hisses. His arm buckles beneath him, and he buries his head in the crook of your neck. “Fuck,  _ fuck  _ — I’m so close, fuck—”

You rock your hips up against Jaebum. He’s slamming into you so hard that you’re sure you’re going to bruise, and you don’t even care. “Yeah, come for me,” you pant out. Jaebum picks up the pace, low grunts muffled in your neck and the sheets. “Fuck, you feel amazing — come for me—”

And so Jaebum does, with a husky groan of pleasure, his hips bucking jerkily into you. You arch into him, fingers gently raking along his back, as he rides out his high.

“Baby,” he murmurs, turning his head slightly to press a kiss into the side of your head, into your hair. “Baby, you’re amazing.”

You grin, and tilt your head to give him a wet smooch on his cheek. “I know,” you say proudly.

Jaebum groans, shifting on top of you and reaching down to slowly pull himself out. His fingers linger, dancing around your entrance. You exhale sharply through your teeth. “Your turn,” he says, voice back to its arrogant purr now that he seems to have somewhat recovered from his orgasm.

“Mm,” you hum, leaning back into the sheets. Jaebum pulls his fingers up, displaying them to you. They’re covered in his come. He looks proud, and when he puts his fingers in your mouth, you suck on them greedily, desperate for a taste of the two of you mingled together.

“So pretty,” Jaebum says. He’s crouched between your legs, and you can just about see his cat-like eyes peering up at you. “I filled you up with my come.”

You lick your lips, letting your head fall back into the pillows. “Yeah?” you mumble distractedly. “What are you gonna do about that?”

Jaebum doesn’t reply. You just feel his breath on your skin, and then his tongue is dragging a laboriously languid swipe along your slit, and your brain dissolves into fog. He laps at your clit, the rough surface of his tongue tracing circles into you, pressing firmly against you, and you groan, fisting one hand in the sheets and the other in his hair.

“Your mouth—” you heave out, skin electric and body tense with need. Jaebum smiles against you, pushes his tongue into you. It makes your breath catch in your throat, your heart rate stutter.

“You taste so good,” Jaebum murmurs. His voice vibrates against your body. “Or should I say — I taste so good?”

You can’t even form the words to tell him off for being a smart-ass, because now he’s got one hand on your clit, thumbing at it, applying so much pressure that it makes you squirm, then laying off just enough to make you breathy with want. All the while swirling his tongue inside you, eating his own fucking come out of you like it’s the last meal he’ll ever have.

“Jaebum, fuck—” you hiss through clenched teeth. Your muscles are tensing up, the pleasure building up in your gut. You can feel the crest of your orgasm approaching. “Don’t stop — don’t fucking stop—” You groan, twist your hips up, aching for your release, and Jaebum — bless his soul — doesn’t stop, doesn’t speed up, doesn’t change anything, just keeps doing what he’s doing with his godsent hands and his devilish tongue—

_ “Fuck!” _ you cry out, as your orgasm crashes into you. You’re trembling, all of your muscles clenching so hard you think you might break in half. Heat courses through your body, the beautiful tension and then release. “Fuck — Jaebum — fuck.”

Jaebum smirks, lifts his head slightly to look at you. Reaches one hand up to grab your breast, flick playfully at your nipple. “Mm?” he asks, lips moving against you clit. It’s sensitive, and you whine, squirming away from him as best you can while your limbs still feel like jelly.

“God, you fuck,” you groan out, trying to bury your face in the pillow, except you’re too fucked out too move, so you just end up flopping your head sideways. Your eyes fall closed. “God.”

“Was that good?” Jaebum asks, sounding smug. He already knows the answer to his question, so you don’t bother responding, and he just chuckles lightly before shuffling up to press a kiss into your temple. “Do you wanna take a shower?”

You make a noise of displeasure in your throat. “Heck, no,” you grumble, cracking one eye open at him. “Sleepy. Chuck me something to wear to sleep.”

Jaebum leaps off the bed with sudden excitement, and you crane your neck to look at him. “Ooh,” he calls out excitedly. “I have the perfect thing!”

Then a balled up wad of something or other hits you in the face. “The fuck is this?” you complain. It’s a t-shirt, and as you pick it up to inspect it you realise just why Jaebum was so pleased to offer it to you. You turn the front of it round to show him. There’s a picture printed on it, of an unknown man sitting by edge of a lake. Jaebum had bought it from a used-clothing store for the caption alone.

_ “Doing it for daddy?” _ you ask. “Really?”

Jaebum grins at you. “You love that shirt!”

“You know I hate it,” you reply, but you’re already pulling it over your head. It’s possibly your least favourite of all the stupid, dorky t-shirts he owns. But it’s his, and it’s soft from how often he’s worn it and washed it, and smells like him, and — okay, fuck it, you love it.

Just like you love the stupid man crawling into bed with you, pulling the covers around you both.

“I like this,” Jaebum murmurs into the side of your head. “Pretending to be strangers, getting to boss you around — it’s hot.”

You hum to yourself. It certainly is, but you’re not going to give him the satisfaction of you admitting that when you’re not horny. You kick him in the shins. “Go turn the lights off, you goon.”

Jaebum laughs brightly, tumbling out of bed to comply. “Yes, your majesty!” he calls out in a sing-song voice. Glances back at you, and winks. “I love you, by the way.”

You roll your eyes. Stupid, dumb dork. “I love you too.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> yeah I don't usually do this but I had to for ______ ;)
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/notionxally) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/notionxally)


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